"Son, not "sun"

So, on Monday, I started writing again for this blog. I’m trying to get my shit together. One would think by the time someone is 31; they would have figured things out. I have a great support system and parents who love me beyond measure, yet something is still lacking in my life. I did not know what this was until this morning. As I’ve stated in the other blogs, I attempt to replay conversations in my head after the fact. I was replaying one such conversation from a few months ago this morning when I realized it fit into exactly what’s going on in my life right now. On the surface, it seems as if everything is going perfectly for me. I am being considered for my first job, and from what I’m told, I’m high on the list of potential candidates. I didn’t mess up the actual interview even though I was nervous as all get out. I just had a visit with one of my best friends. Life couldn’t be sweeter, right? Well, I am sad to report that this is not the case. I never thought I’d use this blog as a therapy outlet, but a conversation that occurred recently with my mother and me, along with the dialogue that a former aide and I had several months ago, made me realize that perhaps I’m dealing with an issue that needs to be discussed on a larger scale about maturity and disability



I’ve always complained about how the able-bodied community coddles people with disabilities throughout my many pieces on this blog. While this may be true to no small extent society-wide, it isn’t true in all cases. Many people with disabilities are forced to face the hard realities of unloving and uncaring families. I am not coddled either, for the most part. However, I fall in between. I am nothing less than adored by my parents and support system, but I often fail to see it or take it for granted. I wonder if this occurs throughout the disability community. Usually, we get so wrapped up in how people treat us; we forget how to treat people ourselves. It is not my attempt to attribute all my wrongdoings to my disability, no. It is merely an acknowledgment of a flaw that I have to work on. I have lost friends and damaged relationships with people I love due to my self-centered view of the world. I cannot go back and change these actions, and the old saying that actions speak louder than words is true. However, this is my attempt to start fresh. To some readers, it may seem surprising that I am admitting that my life is not perfect. I have the chance to live a pretty awesome experience. If it isn’t perfect, it isn’t anyone’s fault but mine.

I use myself as an example to make this point; people with disabilities often view the world as victims. Maybe we are victims but victims of ourselves. The only ones we can control are ourselves. However, not to be too cliché, our actions do have consequences. Our world can be awesome or horrible or a mixture of both. It is up to us to choose the path we roll down.

What's so "special"?

My Random Rantings for the Night

I haven't written in a while on the Voiceless minority. I've been busy dealing with some medical issues and capturing and taking advantage of several opportunities that have come my way. More on that later –



However, the point of this blog is to get on my soapbox. Before I do so, I must say that this blog is a straight opinion piece, and it comes from the point of me being extra picky when it comes to semantics.



The other night I was watching one of my TV shows – the WWE- when they announced a partnership with the "Special" Olympics. When I first heard this, I went all noble, and my mind took over. I said, "Oh, here we go again, the mainstream media and the able-bodied community using the disabled as 'inspiration porn.'" For those who don't know what that is, the term inspiration porn was coined by disabled activists and comedienne Stella Young. It is the idea that the able-bodied community uses their disabled counterparts' achievements to inspire them. They use simple achievements, such as getting out of bed, and they see it as extraordinary. When I first heard the announcement of the partnership with the "Special" Olympics, I made the connection between that and inspiration porn immediately, and part of me believes this idea to have merit. It needs to be further explored, which I hope to do throughout this blog.



Once I had calmed down, I reflected on the "Special" Olympics concept as a whole. The overall idea is a good one. It gives people with developmental and intellectual disabilities an outlet for an athletic competition which they may not get otherwise. My issue with the whole concept is again, I'm picky on semantics, but why do we have to call it "special"? If we look at the "regular" Olympics, the emphasis is on athletic achievement and bringing the world together, to forget all our problems for a little while. To recognize a segment of the disabled community's accomplishments, we have the Paralympic games after the Olympics. This is an excellent concept as it recognizes disabled athletes for their physical achievements, and at no point are they referred to as "special." Instead, their achievements are looked at from an athletic standpoint despite their obstacles.

The Paralympics do not get as much attention as the regular Olympics, but they still draw considerable attention. My problem is with the media's treatment of the "Special" Olympics. As I said before in this blog, the concept is a great one as it allows people with intellectual and developmental disabilities such as Cerebral Palsy and Down Syndrome to participate in athletic events. The problem comes when the media capitalizes on the concept in the wrong way. Rather than treating these athletes like their able-bodied counterparts, in this writer's opinion, most of the able-bodied community infantilize an entire population through the way these games are presented. I am not saying this from the point of no experience. I participated in these games when I was younger. In my experience, every athlete gets a medal; to illustrate the absurdity of this point, I got an award for my driving ability. Anyone who knows me knows my uncanny ability to end up in the bushes or hitting a wall when I steer myself. The medal I received was for going correctly through an obstacle course. My opponent, a good friend of mine at the time, ended behind me but received the same medal I did. It has been a long time since I competed in the "Special" Olympics, and hopefully, this practice has ended. I am skeptical. If it has not, it is a further illustration of my point that the "Special" Olympics are not designed for athletic competition. Instead, they are intended to pat participants on the head and say, good job, buddy. These participation trophies do nothing to spark a healthy interest in competition and might do just the opposite. If anyone reading this still participates in the "Special" Olympics and can prove me wrong, I gladly welcome the correction and admit my error on this blog in a future post.

Even if this is not the case, I assert that organizations like the WWE, who greatly influence the media, use their platform to showcase individuals with developmental and intellectual disabilities inappropriately. Glorifying these individuals simply because they have a disability goes back to the idea of inspiration porn. On this particular episode of WWE, they highlighted one athlete in particular who was a participant in speed skating. The only problem with the way they highlighted him is that the athlete himself did not speak throughout most of the piece. Instead, members of his family and his coaches spoke for him. As a readers note, I have a family who participates in the "Special" Olympics to this day. My cousin does get great enjoyment out of the games, but our family does not treat her as extra special. They look at what she has accomplished. For them, it isn't about the medal; it is about the fun she had.

In closing, the "Special" Olympics concept is a great one, but I raise this question and point – why are the people who participate "special" just because they participate?